


quiet nights

by thir13enth



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Married Couple, how much more domestic can you get, with kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:00:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21997153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thir13enth/pseuds/thir13enth
Summary: He loves her singing so much he can barely interrupt with a kiss.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 6
Kudos: 76





	quiet nights

**Author's Note:**

> for **hd alvis** , who was my secret seteth and presented me with art that inspired me so I wrote a corresponding fic. ty your art was cute and soft and warm.

It’s routine by now.

The moment the toddlers are finally asleep, Felix and Annette breathe a sigh of relief, slipping back downstairs to sink into the brown worn-in couch at the bottom of the stairs and enjoy the quiet night. Annie usually chooses to spend her time reading, flipping the leather-bound book to the neatly bookmarked page and settling cross-legged into the cushions that seem to swallow her whole.

Felix, on the other hand, chooses to simply watch his wife, elbow on the armrest and hand propping his head up to support its slight tilt in her direction. He doesn’t make it that obvious — or so he thinks — because he holds his phone in his free hand, thumb mindlessly scrolling down the infinite feed of his social media. (Sylvain is without doubt a frequent poster, but it’s honestly Dimitri that is surprisingly the over-sharer.)

Tonight, he can tell she isn’t really reading — in fact she probably isn’t even paying attention to the book at all, simply looking at the words and running her eyes over the page.

He knows this because she’s singing. Half-humming and half-mumbling to keep her volume down but nevertheless bobbing her head to the left and right as she sings yet another lullaby she’s composing.

She’s good at this. The kids have already picked up her musical talents and — for better or worse — they’re singing all the damn time, maybe even more than their mother herself.

Watching Annie with the corner of his eye, he can’t help but smile.

She looks extra cute and warm in her oversized sweater (his) and sweatpants (also his). Her blue eyes, still as bright as the day he met her. Her pink lips, slowly forming impromptu lyrics, are a little chapped from the cold, and her freckled cheeks have a dust of red just under her eyes.

In the middle of song, her head suddenly lifts. “Oh,” she remarks to herself. “I forgot what I was going to make my next verse.” Her eyes dart in his direction — quick. He can’t react and look away in time, pretending he hasn’t been watching her this entire time.

He tries to hold her mischievous gaze, but then her eyebrows waggle. At this, he immediately turns his head back to his phone, feeling a wave of heat rising up his face.

“Felix…” she sings teasingly. She puts her book back down on the side table, flipping onto all fours and crawling toward his end of the couch.

He looks over at her, as if his eyes were on his phone all this time. “What?”

“Were you watching me sing again?” she accuses, in somewhat of a melody.

“No…” he refutes.

It’s not a strong statement because his voice cracks in the middle.

She pokes him in the cheek, climbing into his lap. His legs automatically part to make a comfortable sitting space for her body. “You’re _blushing_ ,” she tells him.

He waves her hand away. “Am not,” he refutes.

Despite himself, he feels his cheeks grow even warmer.

“Hey,” she assures him. “What’s so embarrassing about watching me sing?”

“Nothing,” he gruffly replies. Of course, she’s right. There’s really no shame in him wholeheartedly enjoying her singing. Why, after all this time together, is she still able to make him feel like a teenager caught admiring a crush?

She raises a single eyebrow. “Oh, is that so?” she purrs, pecking a kiss under his left eye. She starts into song then. “Aw, he’s trying to be bad….” she sings. “Felix is so cute when he’s mad…”

He’s pretty sure that even the tips of his ears are flushed now. “Shut up!” he demands, the only defense mechanism he knows when embarrassed.

She sticks her tongue out at him. “Make me,” she challenges.

So he does. “Okay,” he agrees.

And with that, he takes her jaw in one hand and pulls her close to press a kiss squarely on her lips. He adds passion too, collapsing into the sofa and letting her fall over him as he drops his phone (whoops, that felt like it slipped between the cushions) to free his hand so he could hold the back of her head.

Doing this is hard. He loves her singing so much he can barely interrupt with a kiss.

Withdrawing, he opens his eyes, satisfied to see her cheeks so red that her freckles turned dark. He holds her face just inches from his, then unable to help himself, plants another kiss on her lips. Her eyes flutter open as he pulls away again, and breathless, she admonishes him.

“Felix!” she yells at him, giving him a playful tap on the chest (oof, kinda hard, actually). “You can’t just do that out of nowhere!”

He smiles, eyes on her lips. “Do you want me to stop then?”

At this, she looks away. “…No,” she admits quietly.

“Thought not,” he replies, leaning forward for another kiss.


End file.
